


Body Heat

by Suryaofvulcan



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-10
Updated: 2007-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suryaofvulcan/pseuds/Suryaofvulcan
Summary: Trip, Malcolm, and the aftermath of 1.16 "Shuttlepod One."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Written for Qzee for the 2007 entficathon.  
  
This story assumes the reader is familiar with the season one episodes 'Shuttlepod One' and 'Two Days And Two Nights'.  


* * *

â€œMalcolm!â€ Trip Tucker groaned involuntarily as his orgasm slammed into him like a runaway juggernaut. He allowed his head to roll forward onto his heaving chest and the dildo to slip out of his ass as he knelt, naked, on his bunk and rode out the storm, hips thrusting forward as each pulse of ejaculate escaped him.

_God, that was intense_ , he thought as his racing heart began to slow, and he lifted one trembling hand to wipe the beads of perspiration from his brow. He didnâ€™t do anything about those already trickling down his back and chest and stomach. It was always intense when he thought about Malcolm, he acknowledged, stifling a pang of guilt and regret as he wiped his sticky hand against the damp skin of his thigh. He knew it was wrong to think of his friend that way, especially while he was jerking off, imagining Malcolm was there with him, the Englishmanâ€™s cock buried deep in his ass. It was especially wrong after what had happened a couple of weeks ago, when theyâ€™d been stranded together in the shuttlepod. But it seemed the more he tried to suppress his feelings for Malcolm, the more intensely erotic his fantasies about the man became.

He glanced down at his other hand, the one that still held his softening penis, and at the cum splattered on the towel he had laid out beneath him. _This is ridiculous_ , he berated himself silently. It was getting so that he couldnâ€™t get off without imagining Malcolm Reedâ€™s cock up his ass.

And yet â€¦

And yet, as intense as it was, the pleasure and the guilt, the desire and the longing commingling to produce an exquisite agony, the release he achieved was ultimately cold and empty, as empty as his bed without a warm body to lie beside him, as empty as his heart had felt that day on the shuttlepod with Malcolm.

Trip closed his eyes as he remembered. Remembered the way Malcolm had readily crawled into his arms once theyâ€™d finally agreed that sharing their body heat would probably be a good idea. Remembered the sweet sensation of Malcolmâ€™s strong arms encircling him under the blankets. Remembered the smell of the other man as heâ€™d rubbed his chilled face against Malcolmâ€™s neck. Remembered the way Malcolmâ€™s lips had felt - so cold! - under his when Trip had leaned in and gently, chastely kissed him.

â€œEr â€¦ Trip?â€ Malcolm had slurred, raising his head to blink blearily up at him. â€œYou know Iâ€™m straight, right?â€ 

At least he didnâ€™t seem angry or upset, Trip had thought through a fuzzy, alcoholic haze. â€œI know,â€ heâ€™d replied softly, thinking about the endless farewell messages to ex-girlfriends Malcolm had recorded earlier. How could he be anything but straight? But it didnâ€™t stop Trip wanting him.

Malcolm had muttered something more as he burrowed his way back down into Tripâ€™s chest, but Trip didnâ€™t catch what heâ€™d said. It didnâ€™t matter anyway. They would most likely be dead in a few hours, and as last moments went, this wasnâ€™t a bad one, sitting here with Malcolm snuggled up against him. At least heâ€™d gotten to kiss Malcolm once, even if it had proved to be unwelcome. Only a short time later Malcolm had slipped into unconsciousness, and Trip had soon followed, still holding the other man, still wondering if either of them would ever wake up again.

Trip sighed, lost in memory, as he discarded the towel and slid down into his cold, empty bed.

Heâ€™d been afraid Malcolm might pull away from him after the shuttlepod incident, retreat once more behind his â€˜perfect officerâ€™ faÃ§ade, but to his surprise and relief that hadnâ€™t happened. If anything Malcolm seemed to respond more eagerly to his overtures of friendship, and had even made some of his own. He genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with Trip, and actively sought him out and cultivated their friendship. And when the two-day shore leave on Risa had been announced, heâ€™d readily agreed to join Trip on a little â€˜cultural explorationâ€™.

But Trip couldnâ€™t help wondering how Malcolm would feel if he knew about Tripâ€™s private, erotic fantasies and unrequited longings.

~~~

Trip shifted uncomfortably on the shuttlepodâ€™s bench seat, pulling his complimentary robe more closely around him and trying surreptitiously to adjust his underwear without any of the other passengers noticing. Especially not Malcolm.

Shore leave had been a bust. Trip had tried so hard to be just a friend, to simply enjoy spending time in Malcolmâ€™s company, to give the other man what heâ€™d so obviously wanted; a few drinks and a date with a couple of nice, compliant local women, hopefully leading to some uncomplicated sex. Instead theyâ€™d ended up robbed, stripped to their underwear and trussed up like a couple of prize turkeys in the basement of a nightclub. Malcolm had not been pleased.

Trip let his eyes wander across to the opposite bench where Malcolm was sitting, wrapped in a matching robe. He was laughing at something Hoshi had said, sparks of light dancing in his grey eyes. He was so beautiful, Trip sighed inwardly. So unattainable.

_Trust me to fall for the straightest man in the universe_ , he thought. And it was love he felt for Malcolm, he was certain of that now. The initial attraction heâ€™d felt for the shy, reserved Englishman had grown into something much more complicated and important. At first heâ€™d thought he was simply on the rebound after the Dear John letter heâ€™d received from Natalie, but the shuttlepod had taught him otherwise. Heâ€™d been fully prepared to give up his life to save Malcolmâ€™s. And Malcolm had pulled a phase pistol on him, yelling that him heâ€™d rather they both died than have that burden on his soul. It was the defining moment of their relationship. Hence the kiss. Hence Tripâ€™s aching heart.

He abruptly shook himself out of his reverie, aware that heâ€™d been staring at Malcolm while he was lost in his own melancholy thoughts. And as his surroundings snapped back into focus he found Malcolm gazing speculatively back at him, a small, slightly bemused smile curving on his lips.

Rostov, piloting, quickly completed the docking procedure, but when the hatch popped open Trip hung back, allowing Jon, Hoshi and Malcolm to precede him out of the pod. When he left the launch bay, trying to maintain as much dignity as he could while padding through the ship barefoot and wearing only his underwear and a robe, he was surprised to find Malcolm falling into step beside him. Well, he supposed, their quarters were on the same deck. It made sense to ride the turbolift together.

â€œSafety in numbers,â€ Malcolm quipped, as if reading his mind.

The ride to B-deck was mercifully short, and the â€˜lift didnâ€™t stop to pick up any other passengers on the way. Trip was relieved to find the corridors en route to his quarters similarly empty. Malcolm stood inscrutably beside him as he keyed the entry code to his cabin, and then, when the door slid open, surprised him once more by following him inside.

Confused, Trip turned to find Malcolm standing behind him, barely a step away. â€œMalcolm?â€

â€œWe really are a couple of twits, arenâ€™t we?â€ Malcolm said, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

â€œYeah, I guess,â€ Trip mumbled, suddenly mesmerised by something new in Malcolmâ€™s eyes. If he didnâ€™t know better, he would have called it desire.

â€œThere we were, chasing that pair of bimbos,â€ Malcolm continued, moving closer until they were almost touching, â€œwhen all either of us really wanted was this.â€

Trip could feel the heat radiating from Malcolmâ€™s body, the tickle of his breath as he came closer, and then Malcolmâ€™s mouth was on his, one hand sliding up behind his head to guide him down into the kiss while the other snaked around his waist to pull him closer, finally bringing their bodies together. Trip was momentarily startled as Malcolmâ€™s soft, wet lips made contact with his own, but then he relaxed into the kiss, closing his eyes and opening his mouth as he felt Malcolmâ€™s questing tongue flicker across his lips, seeking entry. Trip returned the kiss with fervour, pouring all his pent up longing into it, wrapping his arms tightly around the warm body pressed against his. It was everything heâ€™d ever dreamed of; the ache, the longing finally quelled as he gave himself up to this wonderful moment, but there was still a nagging doubt, that conversation in the shuttlepod niggling at the back of his mind, and he slowly, reluctantly pulled away, raising his head so that he could gaze into Malcolmâ€™s stormy grey eyes.

â€œMalcolm, why â€¦?â€ he whispered, licking at his lips, tasting Malcolm on them. â€œYou said you were straight.â€ Malcolm was stroking his thumb rhythmically across the short hairs at the nape of Tripâ€™s neck, making it difficult to think straight, let alone speak.

â€œI also said I was open to persuasion.â€ Malcolm smiled up at him. â€œYouâ€™ve persuaded me,â€ he added, as if that explained everything.

Hope flared, and Trip shook his head in confusion. That must have been the remark he hadnâ€™t heard, but still â€¦ â€œI donâ€™t understand.â€

Malcolm blushed appealingly. â€œI am straight - mostly,â€ he qualified. â€œIâ€™ve only ever had relationships with women. Men were â€¦ only when I was much younger. And they were always just for sex.â€

â€œOh.â€ Tripâ€™s soaring heart suddenly plummeted into the pit of his stomach. He wanted sex with Malcolm - of course he did - but he also wanted more. Much, much more.

â€œBut I didnâ€™t want it to be like that with you,â€ Malcolm went on. â€œYouâ€™re â€¦â€ he searched for the right word, â€œâ€¦ important to me.â€

And Trip could breathe again. He leaned forward, and this time the kiss was gentle, exploring, each of them savouring this new experience. Trip moaned softly as he felt his body respond to Malcolmâ€™s nearness, his heart pounding, blood singing in his ears, his cock stiffening until it strained against his underwear, as if trying to break free.

There was a brief fumbling, and then Trip gasped as hot flesh met hot flesh, both their briefs pulled down and Malcolmâ€™s penis bumping gently against his own. Trip gazed at his friend - his new lover, he amended - wonder and delight and anticipation intermingling in his heart.

â€œYou want this?â€ he whispered, seeking confirmation in words as well as actions.

â€œI do,â€ Malcolm murmured, his eyes dark with passion.

Trip swooped in to reclaim Malcolmâ€™s lips, kissing him with a passion and intensity heâ€™d never known before, losing himself in it until the world receded and there was only Malcolm: Malcolmâ€™s lips pressed against his, Malcolmâ€™s tongue dancing eagerly in his mouth, winding sensuously around his, and their bodies slowly melting into each other.

He kissed Malcolm deeply, devouring him, exploring every crevice of his mouth, leaving no place untouched, and when at last he drew back to gasp a breath, Malcolm followed, licking at his lips and his chin, and the kiss became a wet, slobbering affair involving lips and teeth and hands threading through short strands of hair.

â€œTrip,â€ Malcolm said at last, his voice a low, husky whisper, â€œwhat do you want?â€

Trip swallowed hard. Now that the moment had come he was almost afraid to tell Malcolm what heâ€™d fantasised about all these weeks. But Malcolm had come to him of his own volition, prepared to try something new and different and oh so precious. He deserved honesty.

â€œI want you to make love to me,â€ Trip whispered back, kissing Malcolmâ€™s slightly stubbly cheek.

He closed his eyes as Malcolmâ€™s lips returned to his. The kiss was tender this time, slow and sweet, Malcolmâ€™s tongue gently caressing his and his strong, agile fingers stroking Tripâ€™s neck.

And then those wonderful hands were under his robe, slipping it off his shoulders until it fell to the floor, removing his singlet, and finally sliding his briefs down his legs until they too dropped to the floor.

He revelled in the sensation of Malcolm touching him, of warm hands playing over his bare skin, palms sliding over his arms and shoulders, running down his back, gently squeezing his ass, and then fingertips brushing lightly over the tops of his thighs as they came around to grasp and carefully stroke his penis.

â€œMal,â€ Trip moaned, bereft as Malcolm took one step back, but then he gasped as Malcolm quickly shed his own robe and underwear.

Trip turned, leaning forward across his desk, spreading his legs, inviting. He felt Malcolmâ€™s body heat as he came up behind him, then skin against skin as Malcolm snaked his arms around Tripâ€™s torso and pressed himself against his back, and the sweet sensation of Malcolmâ€™s erection nuzzling into the cleft between his buttocks.

He instinctively pushed back a little, trying to encourage Malcolm to take him, but Malcolm remained still, stroking and caressing Tripâ€™s chest and stomach while placing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

â€œTrip, darling,â€ Malcolm murmured huskily, â€œas much as I love your back, Iâ€™d much prefer we do this so that we can see each other.â€

_Man is the only animal that copulates face to face_ , Trip was sure he remembered reading somewhere. _Yes, because it could be so much better that way._ Silently he turned and took Malcolmâ€™s hand, leading him over to the bed. He flopped down onto it, smiling invitingly as he allowed his legs to fall open.

An answering smile quirked Malcolmâ€™s lips. â€œMuch better,â€ he breathed as he swooped down for another kiss.

~~~

â€œStay,â€ Trip whispered, curling himself around Malcolmâ€™s warm body as he lay, sated, beside him in the narrow bunk. Their lovemaking had been a revelation: Malcolm, intense and passionate, taking Trip to incredible heights and then, just when Trip knew he couldnâ€™t take any more, sending him tumbling over the precipice before, moments later, joining him.

â€œI canâ€™t, love,â€ Malcolm said softly, turning to face him.

â€œThe bedâ€™s too cold without you.â€

Malcolm chuckled. â€œI could lie here like this for ever, my darling, but we were supposed to be changing into our uniforms, remember? Weâ€™ll be breaking orbit in a couple of hours, once everyoneâ€™s back on board. We both have duty shifts.â€

â€œYeah, I remember,â€ Trip said, a little sadly. They had been magical, these stolen moments making love with Malcolm, and he was suddenly afraid a return to their normal routine would somehow break the spell.

Malcolmâ€™s expression softened into a warm smile as he cupped Tripâ€™s cheek, rubbing his thumb along his cheekbone.

â€œTell you what,â€ Malcolm murmured. â€œCome to my quarters after your shift.â€ He grinned. â€œAnd you can warm my bed tonight.â€

 

~end~

 

A/N: I stole â€¦ er, borrowed one of my favourite song lyrics for this fic.

>   
> â€œI am not in love  
> But Iâ€™m open to persuasion â€¦â€  
> Love and Affection - Joan Armatrading  
> 


End file.
